Quantum Entanglement
by BrusselsSprout
Summary: A post-Framework journey of Fitz. It may or may not end in a cottage. I updated an earlier fic, as the story has developed in my head. Because the world needs more Post-Framework angst. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

"So let me get this straight mate, you and your crazy scientist adoptive dad built a hot robot chick, who then read a book from hell to bring you back from another dimension; the book corrupted both your crazy professor dad and the hot robot chick, so they allied themselves with a Russian obsessed with Coulson. Then they kidnapped the whole team and locked you into a video game (which you helped to build), where you became the big Nazi boss, who tried to kill off all the other characters, while building a machine to bring your video-girlfriend over to real life with a few upgrades. Your real girlfriend in the meantime plugged into the videogame and tried to get your sorry ass out, but you didn't remember her and instead almost shot her in the head because she took out your video game dad. Then you both got back to the real world, but it turned out the machine was real, so your crazy-robot-video-girlfriend became a real girl with lots of kickass superpowers you gave her and she lost it when you decided to break up with her and went on a rampage. Then some flaming head demon came with a whip on fire, gave his flaming head to Coulson, who killed your sex-bot girlfriend. Then you all went for pie and everyone got kidnapped except you." Hunter looks at Fitz.

"Well, you forgot the part where the whole US military is looking for us, because a Daisy looking LMD shot General Talbot, but essentially yes. More or less that's it, yeah." Hunter clearly sees humour in the crazy story, but Fitz remains mirthless.

"Sounds totally crazy, and strangely enough it sounds also just like another day at SHIELD." Hunter shrugs. "And you need my help you find the team."

"Yes, I have a theory that they got taken through a portal."

"Of course, you have a theory. You always have a theory. Wait, you mean like the monolith?" Hunter asks.

"Maybe, but I think it's different this time. I think it is a device that allows travel not only through space, but also through time or between dimensions. It's not really clear." Fitz explains.

"And why did they leave only you behind?" Hunter furrows his eyebrows.

 _Because I am useless._ _I am a crazy killer._ _I am broken. I am not worthy. Take your pick_ – Fitz wants to scream, but just shrugs instead. "Maybe I'm not supposed to exist in that place – maybe it's the future and I am already dead." _Or I am the only one that exists there and it would cause some ripple to take me there again. Maybe I am a future mad scientist who built the portal to kidnap my friends,_ Fitz thinks. These nightmare scenarios have been playing in his head on an endless loop ever since he found himself all alone in the diner, before the special forces attacked the place. He managed to sneak out and take a small ring-like fragment he found on the floor as he crawled through the rubble and broken glass.

"So what's next?" Hunter asks.

"I got the information I could through the rudimentary devices I have access to, but we need to break into a facility with state of the art instruments. ATCU has a secret lab in the middle of the desert in New Mexico – I need to get in there and run a couple of tests." Fitz sighs.

"OK, well, I still have access to a couple of my old drop-boxes so we can get money, and fake identities." Hunter nods. "I also have some surveillance tech that can help us figure out how to break into the lab, mate. But it wouldn't hurt to get a couple more bodies."

"There's, there is nobody left. SHIELD is destroyed – and it's all my fault." Fitz buries his face in his hands.

"You are moping, now, mate. When was the last time you slept? You look like the walking dead." Hunter puts a hand on his shoulder.

"I certainly feel like one." Fitz keeps staring at his beer bottle without drinking.

"What is this about?"

"Have you heard the part where I was a fucking Nazi and almost killed Simmons?" Fitz snaps now banging his fist into bar table. There are not many other patrons in the bar in the late night or rather early morning hours, but they all raise their heads at the sound.

"That was in a _video game_ , Fitz. You can't believe the destruction I caused in Halo" Hunter says.

"No, it was a _virtual reality_. But that's not the point. Real people got killed, real people got hurt, and all because I am fucking monster." There is somehow a relief to say it out loud. Hunter takes a long look at him.

"Fitz, the women may have been deceived by your cute little puppy act, but seriously, the monster did not get into you because you were the bad guy in a video game – for God's sake, you are a top-notch weapon designer for a secret spy agency, not a choir boy. There are no people with all rainbows and unicorns in our line of work: not you, not even your adorable little girlfriend. Just because you guys don't usually kill with your bare hands, it doesn't mean there is no blood on it."

"You're right, the monster was there all along, I just kept hiding it." Fitz mutters.

"You are missing my point mate. The monster is in all of us. You need to get to know it, make friends with it, tame it. If you try to lock it away, it tends to get real mad and bite you in the ass." Hunter waxes philosophical.

"I don't know if I can live with it. I should know right from wrong. I thought I knew who I was, but I'm not sure anymore." Fitz feels like throwing up again.

"You can be remarkably dumb for a rocket scientist, so I am going impart some wisdom on you, I learnt fighting two tours in Afghanistan. There are no black and white hats. We all live in a grey world, just trying to survive, especially in a war. You get thrown into a meatgrinder, with a narrative while on the other side, some other guys, who are just like you get thrown in with a different narrative and they give you guns, they point and you shoot. And you try to kill first, before the other guy kills you. But as the body count grows, the narrative loses all its meaning and the only thing that remains is survival, keeping your buddy next to you alive and the thought that when you get out of the hellhole, you'll get five minutes of bliss burying yourself in a drink or a pair of well-formed tits or whatever floats your boat."

"That sounds remarkably bleak." Fitz swallows.

"Maybe, but that's reality. And you learn to live with the monster that helps you survive it or you curl up in a corner and cry. Those are the options." Hunter gulps down his beer. "I'm going to tell you how it goes. You will finish that beer, then you'll go to sleep. When you wake up, you'll take a shower, because I'm not getting in a car with you in the state you're in. And if your monster is the ruthless sonofabitch, you say he is, you will use him, because we'll need him to get you to the portal."

Fitz nods and takes a swig of his beer. It tastes bitter like the tears frozen inside his skull, but the tiredness hits him together with the alcohol. He gets up on unsteady legs and lets Hunter take him to his room where he falls into a black hole of sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Hunter has been right; the Doctor proves useful for their survival; Fitz surprises himself when he takes out two Russian mobsters in a gunfight, his heart rate hardly accelerating or when he bashes the head of a black suit against the wall with a move he pretty sure never practiced with Mack.

After two weeks of deadly cat-and-mouse with the US government, the Russian's men and god-knows-who-else chasing their tail, Fitz can hardly believe they make it inside the lab. He runs through the corridors trying to locate the room that will reveal the secrets of the fragment. Instead he freezes in panic when in one of the rooms he sees a man strapped to a bed. He enters and for a moment he thinks his mind finally cracked, that it was all a dream and he is back in the reality of the Framework, because the person hooked up to various machines is Vijay Nadeer.

"I am so sorry." he whispers.

"Do we know each other?" Vijay looks at him confused. _Yes, I tortured you to death, stole your powers while you were screaming. I'm the Doctor Mengele from your nightmares,_ he screams inside. Then he remembers, they never met in this life.

"You are Vijay. Simmons mentioned you." he says. "She and Daisy tried to find you, we thought you died."

"You know Jemma Simmons? Is she here?" Vijay asks excited. "I was trying to find her after I got out of the cocoon – this time by myself… She promised me SHIELD would keep me safe…"

"You went through terragenesis again?" Simmons smiling eyes float into his mind for a second. _"That's fascinating." Fitz and figment-of-his-imagination Simmons say it at the same time_. "Did your powers change?"

"Yes, I think so, but I'm not quite sure what they are." Vijay replies. "Are you with SHIELD?"

"Yes. Let's get you out of here." Fitz nods and starts to unhook Vijay from the machine, hoping it will not trigger an alarm.

Hunter enters the room and looks at them. "You know this guy? I think I found something you'll want to see."

Hunter leads them to a room and they see through a small window an arching structure. Fitz nods "This must be it – the gateway."

The door is locked. "Can we break in?" he asks Hunter.

"Maybe with explosives" Hunter rubs his chin.

"I think I can do it." Vijay says and disappears through the door. They hear the latch click open on the other side.

"Cool superpower, mate. And convenient." Hunter quips.

Fitz takes the fragment out of his pockets, and looks at the machinery in the room. "This is way beyond anything I have ever seen" he sighs as he tries some switches. Suddenly a hologram jumps in front of him, with intricate lines.

"What is this?" Hunter asks. Fitz steps back and just stares at the hologram for a while.

"It is a hypersphere or part of one. The manifolds can locate the right curvature…"

"What?" Hunter and Vijay ask at the same time.

"It's a map of a multidimensional space. And the fragment…" Fitz jumps excitedly "is not a fragment at all, but coordinates. I just need to find how the input works." He frantically searches the machine, until he finds the right spot. "I think if I put this in here…" suddenly, a yellow light flares up on the hologram. "That's where they are."

"You know that or you are hoping it?" Hunter asks, but Fitz is not listening anymore. His mind is hyperfocused on the contraption in front of him.

"Hunter, you should leave now and take Vijay. He's an inhuman and will need your help to get to safety." Fitz says then turns to Vijay. "You can trust him, he is a friend of Jemma. He'll get you to safety. SHIELD will come back for you when they can."

"Fitz, this is crazy… You have no idea how to get back yet." Hunter protests.

"It is my shot to get there, Hunter. I have nothing to lose. We'll figure it out with Simmons. Get out while you can. And Hunter, thank you. For everything. Give my love to Bobbi and good luck with the baby." he holds out his hand.

"Anytime, mate. Good luck to you too." Hunter squeezes his shoulders and ushers Vijay out of the building.

Fitz rummages around the room until he finds a box with more of the same type of fragments. He stuffs a few in his pockets. He draws a couple of points of the hyperspace into a notebook, trying to commit to memory some of the main curves. He snaps some pictures with his phone of the gateway. Then he fires up the machine and steps through space and time, again, hoping that the forces of the cosmos that keep tearing them apart also bring them together again, like gravity pulls back the rock thrown up in the air.


	3. Chapter 3

Fitz lands against something hard with a loud thump banging his shoulder. He quickly stands up trying to find his bearings on the metal structure, which could be an office building, a submarine or a spaceship. At least there is oxygen, at least he is not dead. _Not sure that's good news._ He tries to creep quietly along the walls, when suddenly something grabs him from behind in a steely chokehold and pulls him into a dark room. The metal door bangs quietly behind him. "What the hell?" says a familiar voice as a flashlight shines into his eye temporarily blinding him "Turbo?"

"Simmons, look who is here!" Mack's voice booms and Fitz heart stops for a moment as Jemma runs towards him and locks him in a fierce embrace. He breathes in her scent and for a moment he is at home, they are FitzSimmons, best friends, lovers, soulmates until a voice in his head hisses _Leopold, I built this home for us, so we can be together forever. You told me you'd love me forever, and then betrayed me. I did it for you, only for you_. His arms fall down next to his torso and he takes a step back.

"I'm sorry" he says and looks down not wanting to see the disappointment in Jemma's eyes.

"Hey, man, how did you find us?" Mack interrupts placing a hand on his shoulder. "And most importantly, do you know how to get us out of this alien horror show? These blue cockroaches are really over the top, but of course, nobody asked me."

"I've found the coordinates in the diner and tracked it to an ATCU lab. My best guess is that we travelled not only through space, but also through time. I have some things that could help us calculate the coordinates back to Earth and our time. What do we have for equipment?"

"I set up a lab with some of computers we found, but definitely could use your help." Simmons nods and leads him to the lab. Fitz looks around in his head taking stock.

"This is perfect." he hesitantly raises his eyes to meet Jemma's. When all he can see is love, concern and forgiveness, he feels like his heart will break. He quickly averts his gaze _. I don't deserve it, stop, don't you see, I cannot be saved._ _There is no coming back from this._ He wants to shake her to wake her up from the delusion, he wants to melt into her and dissolve his pain in her goodness, he wants to hold her and cry, he wants so badly turn back time and teleport them back to the time when all this was just one of infinite possibilities that lay ahead of them. Instead he sits down in front of a computer, pulls out the notebook with his sketches and starts recreating the map he saw in the lab, grateful for the complex equations that manage somehow to subside the rapid firing of images of his parallel existence in his mind, filling it with numbers and variables.

He startles when a hand lightly touches his shoulder. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you." Jemma says. "You should eat something." she puts some grey goo in front of him, which tastes like sawdust. "This is what we eat here –I tested it – perfect balance of protein, carbohydrates and vitamins. Whoever created it forgot about taste, though." she says in that typical sarcastic-Simmons voice that used to amuse him.

"Wait, I'll trade you for something." Fitz remembers something as he rummages through his pockets. He finds the little square of chocolate that he got with his coffee in one of the diners they stopped at the day before, which he mindlessly dropped in his pocket. He gives her the little offering and sees her eyes light up.

"Mmmm. This is heaven." she smiles. "Thank you." _Is that what you want to go with? A piece of chocolate and all is forgotten, your murderous bastard._

"It's nothing." he shrugs. "You're welcome."

"I knew you would find us." Jemma pulls up a chair and sits next to him, like they used to sit, tantalizingly close, their knees and shoulders lightly brushing against each other. Fitz's whole body stiffens, the contact is unbearable. "You hardly said anything at all today. Tell me, how's Hunter and Bobbi?"

"They work in private security. He seemed to be well. They are having a baby." He says quietly and looks at her. Their eyes meet for a moment and the broken dreams of the little cottage and a family pierces into his mind, unbidden. _You took that away from me. You did this, Fitz. It's your fault. – I'm so sorry, Jemma. I know I'm the bad guy._

"Really? That's so great. Bobbi as a mother, it's hard to picture." Jemma says and her voice is laced with the same longing he felt when he heard the news.

He can't look at her anymore and quickly changes the subject. "And I found Vijay, he's alive."

"Is he? Seriously?" she smiles weakly.

"Yes, and he apparently gone through a second terragenesis when his sister tried to kill him." he explains flatly keeping his eyes fixed on the computer screen.

"Adaptive powers? Fascinating." Jemma says exactly in the same voice as in his head.

"Yes." he nods. "Thanks for the dinner, Jemma." he says. _You don't get to say her name_ , the monster rages in his head.

"You're quite welcome" she replies warmly and pulls the plate away. "Now explain to me what you have been doing."

"OK." he nods and starts talking about hyperspace, space-time curvature and manifolds, and the monster in his head calms down and nods along to the explanation. He finds himself aligned.


	4. Chapter 4

Jemma wonders through the dark corridors of the base with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Nothing feels right. She has spent the last weeks, first alone, now with Fitz, trying to reopen the portal, with nothing to show for it. She is frustrated about constantly hitting new walls.

And there is the persistent worry about Fitz. He is like a husk of his former self, all quiet, pale, dark circles around his eyes betraying sleepless nights. They talk of work, polite as always, but he has built a wall around himself and shut everyone out. Especially her. She knows of course that he would need time processing all, the guilt, the shame, the sense of loss and whatever else is going through his head. The shadows lingering from the Framework would require years of psychotherapy to get through, but they do not have that luxury right now.

She enters the lab. It is dark other than the greenish glow of some computer screens. She stops by one of the screens. It is running a new simulation, she is sure they have not discussed before _. Was it possible that Fitz came up with a solution without telling her?_ She notices a dark wet spot on the floor, which looks like blood. Dread fills her as she follows the blood stains until she sees a dark figure sitting on the floor in the corner, knees pulled up to the chin, arms wrapped around himself, head bowed down. It is Fitz. Jemma lets out a breath of relief when he looks up having heard her footsteps, then he quickly looks away again.

"What's going on? What is all this blood? Are you hurt? Talk to me Fitz" her voice sounds sharper than she means it.

"It's not that deep Jemma, it was just an accident." comes the reply in a hoarse whisper. He seems to be mesmerised by the blood trickling down his right hand.

"Then why are you hiding here in the corner instead of taking care of it? Let me take a look at least." She snaps.

"It feels… I'm fine, Jemma.. Stop worrying." he says quietly.

Jemma turns on the lights and he's blinking in the light tears glimmering in his eyes. She takes his wounded hand, knuckles all raw, bruised and bleeding. "This doesn't look like an accident. What did you do?"

He shrugs. "Fine, you'll find out anyway. I put my hand through a mirror." he sounds so defeated.

His wall of guilt and self-hatred is up again. Jemma sighs. Telling Fitz, it was not his fault, that he was forgiven or that she wanted him back were useless. All this, she has tried, but none of it got through.

"Let's clean it out, before it gets infected" she says gently holding out her hand. He obediently lets her pull him up and follows her to the small medical supply room. The silence is accentuated by the sound of their breaths as she rummages the drawers for tweezers, antibacterial cream and bandages. She starts pulling out the tiny shards, and he winces.

"I can give you something for the pain" she says, but he shakes his head.

Jemma continues "You know, I get it. When I was a little girl I didn't have any friends. I was so lonely, it hurt. I used to watch the other kids run around happily after school and I kept twisting rubber bands around my fingers until they'd go numb. Then release it all of a sudden. One moment of sharp pain – and for that one moment all else fades." she says quietly.

He finally looks her in the eye "You never told me this before."

"Are you trying to hurt yourself Fitz?" she asks directly. The fear in her stomach finally has a name – is he suicidal?

"No, of course not. I just… lost it… I don't know if I can fight … this thing. I don't want to drag you down. You don't deserve it. None of it…" he is struggling for words.

Jemma puts a hand on his shoulders, he flinches a little. They barely touch these days, he has kept his distance in every sense and Jemma tries to respect his need for separation fighting the urge to hug him tightly and hold onto him until the pain is gone.

"Fitz, look at me. Remember, we passed the event horizon together. If you are headed for a black hole, so am I." she says in an even voice. "Tell me that is not where we are going."

His eyes well with tears again, but he finally holds her gaze. "I used to think I knew where we were going, but I don't know anymore, Jemma. I wanted you to have the home you were dreaming of, but to me, it didn't matter. You were home – wherever we were together was home. But I created that nightmare and now we are lost again, trying to put back the pieces. Love wasn't enough to save me." His words sound bitter, but at least he is talking. Jemma finishes bandaging his hand, but doesn't let go.

"But it was. Don't you see? It was love that saved you. You loved Radcliffe like a father, even though you knew his faults. You stood up for him when nobody would. And yes, he betrayed you, but at the end, you got through to him. It was love that allowed him to rise above self-preservation, cowardice and his search for immortality. In that moment he gave up everything for you and you were truly his son."

"And I killed Agnes" says Fitz and she knows that he's playing that horrible moment on an endless loop in his head.

"That wasn't you, Fitz. I knew it and he knew it too."

"Jemma, we have been over this. You know it was me. It doesn't matter how my father raised me, I should have been strong enough to rise above it. I should have known right from wrong. You would have."

"Fitz, imagine if Aida's plan worked out. If she managed to build a body for the Doctor with that machine. That wouldn't have been you. That guy would have had your face, maybe your abilities, but none of your experiences. He would not have been my sweet, best-friend who sat with me in the lab working on countless projects or who invited me to his room to watch Dr Who, or the brilliant scientist who gave up his comfortable work which he truly loved to go on an adventure because I wanted to. He would not have been the man who gave up his last breath for me, who defied the universe to save me. He would not have been the man I love. Just as I meant nothing to him, he would have meant nothing to me." Jemma says trying to convey with her every fibre of her being that this is her truth, this is what she believes "When you came back from the Framework you were exactly who you were before. You saved Mack, you gave AIDA a chance to do the right thing. Tell me, what are you afraid of?"

Fitz smiles faintly. "You know, my inner voice used to be you. Only you. When I was recovering after the pod, I saw you. I actually hallucinated you. I thought I was losing my mind, but somehow you could access things in my head I thought I lost. You had answers I couldn't think of and you never gave up on me. You helped me heal. But now, you are wrong. I am not the same person as I was before, that guy, the monster I was in the Framework, he's in my head too. And I am afraid, what if I lose my mind? What if I become schizophrenic? What if I don't realize it's happening? I am scared of hurting people again. I am scared of hurting you."

Jemma nods. "That's not going to happen if you are honest with me.. These monsters can eat you up if you try to fight them in the dark all alone, but we can fight it in the daylight. The two of us" she says. Then she pauses for a moment "Fitz, I saw the simulations you are running. You never mentioned any of this before."

He sighs "It is fairly straightforward separating that other reality from this one. But the science, it is all jumbled in my head. I don't know exactly if I learnt something or the other guy. I don't trust myself. His science is tainted with the Darkhold and I don't want to drag it back into this world. I think that was his idea, and I should delete that simulation."

"That is a fair point." she nods. "We need to be careful. But we shouldn't be afraid to mine his knowledge. We will do it together. That was our strength. We always knew the boundaries between good science and mad science together. And I am so sorry Fitz that I didn't help you figure out what went wrong with AIDA when you asked me to. Maybe we could have figured it out faster and maybe we could have prevented all this."

Fitz looks at her with horror. "None of that is your fault. It is all mine. I never should have …"

"You had a role, sure – but it was not _all_ your fault. We all made decisions that led to all that happened. You cannot take the blame alone." her eyes are welling up with tears too. Jemma touches her forehead lightly to his. "Fitz, I understand why you have been distant and I know there are a lot of things still to untangle, but I want you to know, you don't have to avoid me. I am ready and will wait for you whenever you are ready too." she whispers and kisses his forehead. He doesn't flinch and looks back at her, his eyes filled with so much love and so much longing that her heart soars with hope for the first time since the Framework. "We'll go over the data tomorrow morning. Get some sleep. Good night."


	5. Chapter 5

Fitz sits there replaying her words in his head. He has thought the only thing he had left to give her was to be free of the misery, she deserved better. But if isolating himself just compounds their collective pain, what is the point? _You need to atone. You need to pay for what you have done. – Why are you punishing me, Fitz?_ Just as he couldn't separate himself from her, she couldn't separate herself from him. They have been in a state of quantum entanglement for a long time now.

He goes back to his bunk and lays down on the narrow, uncomfortable bed. _Just like a prison cell and that's where you belong._ He stares at the ceiling, just focusing on breathing. Breathe in, breathe out, one breath at a time until darkness engulfs him. The dream comes back again, he sees himself standing over Jemma's lifeless body. Her forehead all bloody from the bullet hole, her eyes glassy and accusing. _You did this, Fitz, you did this, Fitz._ Like a broken record, over and over again. He wakes up in a cold sweat screaming silently.

He slips out of his room and over to hers just across the hall. He knocks softly, hesitantly.

"Come in" she says instantly. Clearly, sleep eludes her too, more often than not.

Fitz enters her dark little room and sits on the floor with his back against the wall next to her bed. He can't see her face but feels her looking in his direction. Over these years, he has developed an acute sense for her, he knows exactly where she is in relation to him even with his eyes closed. She is as much of a part of him as his own limbs.

"Jemma, I don't want you to think that I don't try to fight. I have been thinking and digging, trying to find a way out. I don't want to see you hurt. …" _You mean nothing to me, the monster scream at her as she looks up defiantly with tears in her eyes_. Fitz scoffs bitterly "What a stupid thing to say, I have already hurt you enough. I want nothing more than to fix this… to fix us…I would give anything, but to be honest, I don't know if it's possible. I don't see a way out."

"A way out of what? You have been keeping it all to yourself, Fitz and I don't even know what you are fighting." she sounds exasperated. "Maybe we can do it together. We were always stronger, better together. Remember, keeping secrets – that never really worked out very well between us."

"I'll try. It's hard to explain, everything is so confusing. Trying to remember any given moment of my life, and the other life seeps in. It feels like AIDA tried not just to erase you, but rather rewrite an alternate version of every significant moment we have had together. She tainted my memories of you. You, me, her, _him_ – it has all began to blur together. I see you, I remember you, but she is always there as a shadow. And he is there screaming in my head."

"I'm not sure I understand…"

"Like remember how we met on the first day of Academy? Well, in the Framework she introduced herself the same way." Fitz with a bitter laugh.

"What do you remember about when we met?" asks Jemma.

"I think I remember everything. That was the moment that changed my life. I remember the welcome room, packed with new cadets." Fitz says, his voice full of emotion and longing. _I want to be back there, to start again. - You can't. You had your chance and wasted it._

"You were hiding in a corner." she interjects and he knows even in the dark that she's smiling.

"I was not hiding" he protests, and for a moment he feels normal. "well maybe I did. I felt so out of place; really just a little kid among the grownups. I was trying not to draw any attention. Then you walked up to me; even then you were the brave one. You were so beautiful and intimidating. "

"And nervous…" adds Jemma with a little chuckle.

"I have never met anyone quite as smart and driven as you. At that moment, it suddenly felt like maybe I did not make a terrible mistake after all. That things will be alright." finishes Fitz quietly, staring into the darkness.

"You hardly talked to me." Jemma points out.

"I couldn't think of anything smart to say – I just froze up. But I remember you went on and talked about how you hoped that learning about alien biology may provide the key for curing diseases. I remember your ponytail swinging with each step as you walked away. I remember fervently praying to every deity I've never believed in that we'd end up friends."

"And how did it happen in the Framework? " asks Jemma.

"I wasn't quite as shy then. Or maybe I was, but just got better at pretending by that age. My father" he swallows "my Framework father – or whatever –"

"probably more accurate to say your handler" Jemma interjects harshly.

"anyways, he was all about toughening me up – so I was more confident; It was the opening reception or something. She walked up to me, all mysterious and alluring dressed in a weird combination of a form-fitting suit and a swinging ponytail. She gave me the biggest smile. She made me feel like I was the most important person in the whole world. But I mostly remember the ponytail swinging and how smitten I was – like Pavlov's dog – a ponytail and a gut reaction."

"Hmm" Jemma ponders "sounds like she erased your memories about me, but she couldn't erase the underlying emotions. So, she built her relationship with you on top of those emotions, like a parasite feeding on your unconscious to strengthen her hold on you."

"Yes, exactly. And because they are rooted somehow in the same place in my brain, they are much harder to separate than other memories between the Framework and the real world." Fitz sighs.

"So what you are saying is that even though AIDA is dead, she is here mingled into…" her voice gets sharper as she finally starts to understand…

"…into all my memories of you. Your face, your voice, your words, your touch – hers is always there too. The one I crave and the one I abhor, all tangled together." he finishes.

"All of it? Even…?" she lets the questions hang. "So that's why you can't stand my touch?"

"You noticed that?" Fitz feels ashamed.

"Of course, I noticed it. You flinch every time I try to touch you, while the others can. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? Why didn't you tell me this before?" she yells now and he is somehow relieved that finally she's angry. _Denial, anger_ –they made it to step two, as they are working through their grief about the inevitable loss of their relationship all the way to acceptance.

"I didn't want you to think that I am making excuses for what I did. I mean we both know that after all I am like Ward – how ironic - but I didn't want to be exactly like him. I want to own up to what I did." he says.

"Oh, Fitz, you have owned up to already more than your fair share of the blame. As for these tainted memories, we'll make new ones. We will figure it out together." _There is it is – step three, bargaining._

"I wish I could believe that's possible, Jemma." he stands up to leave.

"You have to try because I am not ready to give up on you." her voice is quivering with anger as she stands in front of him, blocking his exit. He feels her hot breath on his chin. "You have never given up on me. Ever. Why do you think my love is less?"

"I don't…it's not about competition." Fitz stutters.

"No, it's not. It's about teamwork. We have always been a team. Work with me Fitz." she pleads.

"You're right, I'm sorry, Jemma." _It's futile, he knows, but he has never been able to deny her anything._ "Good night." he says as he slips out quietly from her room back to his own, lonely bunk staring at the ceiling.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning – _who knows what is morning in the bowels of space?_ – he heads to the lab, feeling like he is late. Jemma is already there, typing furiously on the computer. For a moment he stops leaning against the door frame and watches her. Even this cramped little, wearing the drab-coloured clothes of the station and tying her hair in a simple pony tail, she is beautiful.

She looks up when she feels his presence "Good morning, how did you sleep?" she asks.

"Reasonably, thanks" he lies and walks over to her looking at her computer screen over her shoulders. "You are looking at the data?"

"Yes. It looks like this approach may work. While it is quite brilliant, so far, I don't see anything that I don't understand or couldn't explain without the Darkhold. It is somewhat disconcerting though that at this point you are almost better at chemistry than I am." she says only half joking. "Two lives worth's of learning in just a few days – it is pretty impressive, and a bit of cheating. Imagine the implications though – we could upload knowledge into agents' head and teach them any new skill they may need in a fraction of time."

"Theoretically, but well, the Framework is gone, and I don't think anyone would give a go-ahead on a project like that. Anyways, don't forget that I already knew quite a bit of your specialty, considering I have spent the better part of the last decade of my life in the lab with you." he smiles at the memories - _All of those days together were the best days of my life_. "I'm pretty sure you could build an airplane from scratch at this point." he says warmly.

"So, you are saying without your pre-existing knowledge it would have been impossible?" asks Jemma.

"Well, it was based on magic, so who knows what's possible. But if we rebuild the technology without the Darkhold, I doubt it would work the same way. In any case, I don't think we are meant to make shortcuts when it comes to learning." he says seriously.

"No, of course, you are right." nods Jemma. "In any case, the simulation is successful. The question is - can we build the gateway?"

"I don't know, Jemma. Isn't the question whether we _should_ build the gateway? I don't trust myself anymore. I mean if Tony Stark screwed it up with Ultron, it was pure hubris to think I could do better with the LMDs. And now this… We may end up erasing the human race from existence."

"Still, this could get us home. We need to get back to Earth, to our time. And the simulation looks good. The next step is to build the portal." she steps closer. "Why did you come here, if not to help us get home?" she look at him. He swallows hard. _I came for you. Because you are air to me. You are gravity. You are my magnetic north. I cannot escape you._

"No, of course, you are right. I made some schematics is the lab, I have some pictures. That should help us." he nods.

Jemma lies awake in her bed, excited - _it should be soon_. The portal is now ready and if the trial works tomorrow, they should go home ( _what is home anymore is less clear_ ). She hears the light tap on the door and she knows that it's Fitz. He has snuck over to her bunk, almost every night, just sitting in the dark for a while in silence or sometimes talking about his memories. He enters quietly and takes his usual spot on the floor. Unlike the fox from Little Prince, he hasn't moved an inch closer all these days.

"I have come to a decision, Jemma." his voice is clearer, full of determination. "I am not giving up, I am going to fight. But it has to be my way."

"What do you mean?" she asks her heart racing with both hope and dread.

"You remember after my brain damage? We both tried so hard to get back to where we were before that we couldn't move forward. It took us a long time to realize that there is no going back, it almost destroyed us." he starts. "Well, I've realized the same thing is happening now. You hope I can be the guy you fell in love with again, if only I can just forget about the Framework. I don't think it's possible, Jemma. I am not that guy anymore, I will never be that guy anymore. I have come face to face with this evil that is inside me, and it makes me want to throw up, but if I don't figure out who I am after this, it will consume me. So, before we can do anything together, I need to work it out myself. I've been the boy my mother raised me to be, the friend I thought you needed me to be and I have been my father's son. Now it's time to figure out who I am. Me."

"I can help you" she whispers.

"No, Jemma. When I am near you, I exist only in relation to you in each moment – in a state of quantum entanglement. You were right the first time. You needed to leave, so I could rebuild myself, figure out things, because together we just couldn't, we were stuck in an old pattern. Now it's my turn. I will leave and try to do the same – take the pieces and see what I can build out of it."

"Are you breaking up with me?" her voice is shaking.

He chuckles "As if I ever could do that. No, I want to go on an assignment after we get back to Earth. I already talked to Coulson, we have something in mind. About a year. Then, if you are still single, and you still want it, we could meet. I could show you who I am and then you could decide if that guy is someone you would choose to be with."

"And I don't get a say in this? You get to decide it all by yourself for both of us?" Jemma feels angry.

"I need to do this. I only want the best for you. And if you say it's me you want, I respect that, even if I think you could do much better. But I am too broken now, and if you want me, I owe it to you to offer the best version of me." he says.

"Promise me, this is not a suicide mission." Jemma is close to tears.

"No, not at all. Nothing like that. I've had enough blood and violence to last me a lifetime, Jemma. Two lifetimes, actually." he says bitterly. "I know I don't deserve it, but can you trust me on this?"

She lets out a deep breath. As much as she wants to hold him, she has to admit, she has no idea how to help him. Maybe letting him go and trusting him he'll make it is the only thing left. "One year? I will wait for you."

"No, I don't want you to promise that. I can't promise you anything. I don't know if I can tame my monster or even who I will be if I do. I just want you to be happy Jemma. Even if it's not with me. Let me give you a fair choice."


	7. Chapter 7

_One year later_

Jemma sighs as she looks around the empty lab. She is the last one there, again. Her co-workers all went home. She glances over to Fitz's desk – in her mind it is his desk, even though he never sat there. The new lab was set up after he packed his bags shortly following their return to Earth, kissed her good-bye _(their first and only kiss since the Framework, a brief peck on the lips, really)_ and left. That was one year ago to the day – _not that she is counting_ – and she feels bitter disappointment that the day has ended without any sign of him. She has dressed carefully this morning, as she imagined different scenarios of his return – perhaps surprising her in the morning or showing up at the lab door ( _who knows with a bunch of flowers perhaps – after all he was the romantic one_.)

There is a sinking feeling in her stomach that something is not right, that she has lost him forever. She hasn't heard from him for a year other than a card for her birthday and Coulson's reassurances that he was alive, he was OK. She heads back slowly to her room which is haunted by a Fitz-shaped empty vacuum that grows with every day of their separation. There is a last thread of hope that she would find him there, sprawled on the bed with a grin on his face. She opens the door, but the room is empty.

Then she spots an envelope on her bed ( _how the hell did it get here?_ ) and her heartbeat quickens. She opens it and she finds an open-ended plane ticket and two lines scribbled on a piece of paper in his unmistakably messy handwriting:

 _I'll be waiting at the airport, if you still want to try it._

 _Love, F._

Jemma sighs; she's elated that finally he's in contact, but at the same time frustrated with all the smoke and mirrors. She would like to call him to ask what to pack – _after all, she likes to be prepared_ , but there is no phone number or any other contact detail. She's annoyed for a second and opens her laptop to ask for last minute holiday approval, but when she enters the system, she sees her vacation days already approved. Seems like Coulson was in on the conspiracy, which could be a good sign, but still, she doesn't like being kept in the dark.

Of course, her desire to see him wins out over exasperation with him and she packs some clothes and boards the plane the next day with her heart beating fast. She is elated, worried, wandering the whole way what she would find.

When she lands, she walks towards the terminal with butterflies in her stomach, and a moment of panic hits her when she cannot find his face in the sea of strangers, all waiting there for someone. Then she spots him walking briskly towards her, waving and she almost cries in relief, because he looks so normal. Wearing jeans, a soft grey V-neck pullover and a raincoat, his face is less pasty than usual, his hair is a little longer than she remembers and his unruly curls are damp. His smile is radiant as he briefly hugs her and takes her bag.

"Jemma, so good to see you. I missed you." he murmurs.

"I missed you too." Jemma replies, biting back a sharp comment to the effect that his exile was entirely self-inflicted.

He looks at her fondly. "I can't believe you're here. Is it ok if we go to my place? I set up the guest room for you. And I made dinner. I figured you would be tired." he says a bit nervously as they get in the car. _The guest room, What the hell?_ Jemma wonders.

"Sounds perfect, Fitz." she gets in the passenger seat and alternately stares at his face – _(hmm_ , _perfect stubble)_ , his hands on the steering wheel ( _you could at least try to touch my hand or thigh or something)_ and out the window as they drive through misty landscape and tall trees in the dusk. "Is it always this rainy here?"

"Yes, it tends to get a bit wet. I like it, it reminds me of home." he says as he stops the car in front of a small wooden cottage, just on the edge of the treeline.

"You live here?" she asks surprised as they get out of the car taking in the smell of damp leaves and grass. He nods. "It's a bit – I don't know- too Thoreau for you, don't you think?" Jemma asks.

"Wait, I grew up in Scotland – it's practically the countryside." he chuckles.

She rolls her eyes "You grew up in Glasgow, Fitz."

"Like I said, practically the countryside. There is a certain primal satisfaction one gets from cutting his own firewood." his eyes glimmer mischievously.

"You cut your own firewood?" Jemma cannot help rolling her eyes.

"The house actually has geothermal heating. But I have a little fireplace and well, I know how to do it, in theory, but I actually hired someone to do it for me." he jokes.

A little scruffy mutt greets them joyously as he opens the door, jumping up and down.

"This is Pi." he says.

"Wait. You got a dog?" she leans down to pet the puppy's head and she feels unreasonably upset that he has made such a life-changing decision without consulting her.

"Well who adopted whom is still a question for open debate. We found each other, I guess. When I first moved here. I did a lot of aimless wandering, thinking – and Pi did too. Two lost souls, a match made in heaven." he shrugs.

Pi licks Jemma's hand. "He likes you. How could he not?" Fitz smiles leaning against the doorframe. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself." Jemma looks around the cottage curiously as he shows her around. It's a charming, cosy place that reminds her of the apartment they picked out together, back before AIDA, before the Framework that they never got to set up. She doesn't know what she expected, but not this. The place looks very much like a home, with warm woollen fabrics, honey-coloured wooden floors, a modern white kitchen – ticking all the boxes for the things they had agreed on back when they first started their search for a home together.

"This is the guest room" he gestures as he leads her to an impeccably clean and nicely furnished room upstairs. She notices the wildflowers on the side table and cannot help but smile. The bedsheets are folded exactly the way she likes it, he clearly prepared it for her "Make yourself comfortable. I'll finish the dinner."

When she emerges, having unpacked her bags and taken a quick shower, the table is already set by the little window alcove overlooking the treeline. "This place is wonderful." she says wistfully, and feels just a pinch of anger that he has been out here the whole damn time, living in this fairy tale place while she stayed locked into the shadows of their past life spending time in airplanes and underground bases.

"Yeah, I like to sit here. You can see sapsuckers and hummingbirds, sometimes a moose or a wolf. When we travelled, the scenery changed because we moved, but now, I sit in one place and the scenery changes around me. I forgot what it was like, to see the seasons." He says and Jemma notices for the first time the soft aura of autumn surrounding them. Looking out the window, she feels her soul expand a bit.

"Sounds wonderful. I just never pictured you the lone ranger type." she laughs. "Have you been alone out here?" Jemma looks at him questioningly.

"Well, here yes, but I'm not alone. I'll show you tomorrow what I've been working on." he says mysteriously and doesn't offer any more information even when she raises her eyebrows in question. "Some wine?" he asks as he pulls out wine glasses and a bottle of red wine.

"Yes please. This – whatever this is - smells great. When did you learn to cook?" Jemma asks.

"It's a venison roast with juniper berries. I watched lots of cooking shows. Great choice for sleepless nights." he pulls the dish out of the oven and places it on the table. It looks mouth-watering. Jemma is suddenly aware of the rumbling in her stomach and realizes she hasn't eaten the whole day.

"Wait? Venison? Are you telling me we are having Bambi for dinner?"

"Oh, dear God, no. Not Bambi." he looks at her in mock horror. "I have it from a trustworthy source that this is a very, very distant cousin of Bambi. A mean guy, I was told. Seriously, he was like the bully in deer school. Try it, very tasty." he grins.

"It is." she concedes taking a big bite. "Cooking shows? I guess my homemade pesto aioli will not be the highest point of our combined culinary might anymore?"

"There is nothing in the entire world that will ever be better than your homemade pesto aioli." Fitz replies, his voice full of emotion. "I would be embarrassed if I kept count of the nights when I dreamt of your pesto aioli." he says wistfully. "So, tell me, how is everyone? There must be so much gossip" he asks.

"Oh, there is not much to tell. We have been busy rebuilding the base – the new lab is ready, it's big, it's beautiful – it's all set up – shiny new tools – only a few things left to buy, but I didn't want to order it until I ran those specs by you. The only part missing is, really – well, you. It's been rather empty without you." she looks at him, but doesn't dare to ask if he's coming back. Not yet. He only nods and Simmons continues "Uhmm, Coulson and May have finally gotten together – you should see them, like two lovebirds. And Daisy is now assistant director. Recruiting, rebuilding. Really, not much to report."

"That's good news, about May and Coulson. If there is one couple…" he smirks.

"…who took longer than us?" Jemma laughs.

They keep talking about old friends, and the new base, Jemma tells about the new projects in the lab ( _nothing too exciting – it has been an uncharacteristically calm year_ – _really, kind of dull without him_ ) while Fitz cleans away the dishes and lights the fireplace. They sit quietly for a moment, as Jemma stares into the flames sipping her wine.

"It's so peaceful here." she says and she realizes, it is not just the house. The nervous energy that has surrounded him ever since she's known him is gone – he is as calm as she's ever seen him.

"I needed to stop running." his eyes lock into hers and there is no trace of the tortured soul he was a year ago. They shine deep and calm and she is lost in them, again. She wants him to lean close and kiss her, but he doesn't move. _Of course, it's still Fitz, she thinks and it would be so unFitzlike to jump her bones even if clearly, they are both burning with desire and longing._ She takes his hand and he doesn't flinch. _That's progress too._ His palm is warm and he starts softly caressing her hand with his thumb. "I'm so glad you decided to come. Thank you." he says.

"Of course. I told you, I would. Frankly, I didn't expect this." she motions around.

"What did you expect? Piles of laundry on the floor? Junk food in the cupboard? Empty pizza boxes in the living room?" he mocks.

"Something like that. Maybe a giant TV screen hooked up to an X-box." she laughs.

"I have one in the basement." he admits sheepishly.

"Good. I was worried you have been replaced by…" then she stops, kicking herself mentally for the badly chosen words, afraid to break the magic of the night.

He remains calm. "I was. And I do feel… different a bit, I think."

"Yes, you are. Not bad different though." she looks at him and she sees that he remembers too. "I like it so far, Fitz."

"Good." he nods. "This place changes people."

"It's so strange…" Jemma sighs – she wants to tell him that she's a bit hurt that he ended up living her dream, while she was stuck in place; but she doesn't want him to think she begrudges him for whatever he needed to do to get out of his brokenness.

"I was so lost, Jemma. I was trying to follow the breadcrumbs hoping they would get me back home to you – and this is where they led me."

"You're full of hyperbole tonight." she says.

"Full of something. Maybe too much wine. You should go to bed; it's been a long day. You look tired."

"I am." she acknowledges. She is briefly tempted to ask if they could drop the charade and simply sleep together, but then reminds herself to be patient and wait for whatever his plan is. She wraps the throw-blanket around her shoulder and kisses him lightly. "Good night, Fitz."

"Sleep well, Jemma." he says his eyes dark with desire. He softly runs his hands over her hair. His touch sends electric charges around her body, and she thinks she will never sleep, but as soon as she sinks into the bed on the pillow that is just the right size, shape and firmness, she passes out.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, Jemma wakes up not to the sound of the alarm clock, but the daylight slowly filling her room. She wraps herself in the warm, fluffy bathrobe that she finds hanging in her room and heads downstairs. She takes in more of the details of the cottage that she didn't notice last night; the cedarwood furniture, the decoration, some familiar _(like the little snapshot of the two of them_ ) and some new ( _a couple of wildlife photos, potted plants_ ). She finds him in the kitchen by the window sipping his tea and tapping away on a laptop. He's wearing grey sweatpants and a blue T-shirt and she can see he's been working out all this time. His arms are toned, his chest is more defined. He looks positively delicious. Maybe it's the year she spent without him, but the desire that stirs up inside her is almost overwhelming. Pi is curled up next to him on the bench.

He looks up. "Good morning, sunshine."

"Is it late?" she yawns and moves to the counter to pour her tea.

"No, it's only 6 am. I like the morning" – he motions out the window and Jemma sees the mist covering the ground, swirling around the tree trunks. A deer steps out for a moment to the clearing "He may have come to revenge his cousin" Fitz quips. Pi barks and the deer startles bolting back into the forest. "Would you like some breakfast?" he asks.

"No, thanks. I'm still stuffed from last night. This is good." she cradles her tea and looks out the window. "What are you working on?"

"Just catching up on emails and the like, nothing important." he closes the laptop. "I'll show you the project today."

"I can't wait. You are so mysterious about it."

"Yeah. I don't want to spoil the surprise. How did you sleep?"

"Great. I can't remember the last time I've slept this well. The quiet, the air, the bed… It's all perfect. Almost perfect…if a bit too chaste…" she looks at him pointedly with the best eyelash flutters she can manage.

He turns pink and chews on his lower lip. _Thank God, the old Fitz is still there under the Zen façade of this attractive half-stranger_ , Jemma thinks. "We'll get to that part, too. But let me first show you everything." he says, his voice low. They watch the sunrise in silence.

Jemma takes a shower and gets dressed in jeans and a warm sweater. "I hope this outfit works for whatever plans you have." she smiles.

"Good choice." he looks at her with appreciation. They take a brisk walk with Pi on the edge of the forest fingers interlocked enjoying the crisp air. Then they get into the car and drive for about half an hour, most of it off the main roads when they get to a non-descript gate. Fitz leans over and places his palm over an old rusty box, which turns out to be a state-of-the art security detector and the gate opens. They drive down a long driveway all the way to a brick building. She notices what look like modified DWARVES discreetly scanning the perimeter.

Suddenly a pair of kids – an Asian boy of about 10 and a girl of about 13 with flaming red hair - run by "Hey, Leo." they yell and wave.

"Leo?" Jemma looks at him questioningly.

"That's my name." he shrugs.

"You never let me call you that." she snaps.

"That's Yoshi and Lena." he motions after the kids and doesn't reply to her accusation.

"What is this place?" she asks as they enter the brick building. In one room a group of four younger kids sit on colourful beanbags, listening to a teacher who is scribbling math on a digital whiteboard. Jemma notices one of the kids levitating a few feet from the ground. The children notice them and all run to the door to hug Fitz. "Who's that, Leo?" one of the little girls asks.

"This is Jemma, she is my friend, Julia."

"Hi Jemma", the kids wave at her and all start chattering at once. Their teacher interrupts – "Can we get back in here guys?"

"Sure, Ms Rosalind." The kids say as they settle back.

Jemma looks into the different rooms as they walk down the corridor and counts about 20 kids of different ages by the time they get to the last door. "This is the lab." Fitz motions her to get in.

"Hey, Fitz" someone is already there, with his back to them leaning over his workbench. "Oh, I didn't realize we'd have a visitor" he straightens up, and turns towards them. "Good to see you, dr. Simmons."

"Donnie." she says shocked. "I thought, I thought you died… I'm so-so sorry…" she starts remembering the horror the last time they met and the part she played in it. Donnie interrupts her with a wave.

"No worries, Fitz explained everything, Dr Simmons. I know you weren't really with Hydra." Jemma sighs in relief.

"Call me Jemma." she says.

"Ok, Jemma." he nods then he turns to Fitz "Anyways, when you get a chance, boss, could you take a look at the control system of Jiminy Cricket here?" he motions at a bug-like little robot on the work bench. "I think, one of the kids – and mind you I am not pointing any fingers and naming any names - rewired something, and for the life of me I can't figure out what happened to the poor bugger."

"Yeah, sure. I'm going to kill Mattie. Just give me ten minutes, Donnie." Fitz replies, as he ushers Jemma into a little office on the back of the lab, which Jemma identifies as Fitz's space from the papers thrown everywhere haphazardly ( _or according to Fitz entropy, just a law of physics and you cannot mess with those_ ) and closes the door.

"So, this is what you have been working on? Building a Hogwarts for inhuman children? Why so secret?" she asks. As she speaks though, the horrible Hydra re-education centre in the Framework seeps into her mind and it clicks. This project is his personal atonement. Taking something so horrible and twisted and making it something beautiful and amazing.

"Well, there is no witchcraft or wizardry here, and some of the kids are not inhuman - we have a couple of gifted children too." he nods smiling shyly. "It's more of a refuge, really – we call it the Enchanted Forest. A safe space to grow and experiment."

"We?" Jemma raises an eyebrow.

"Coulson and I." he specifies.

Jemma feels her anger rising that they kept her in the dark about it. Surely, she could have contributed. "How many kids do you have?" she asks finally, keeping her tone neutral reminding herself not to pick a fight.

"36 at the moment. We have six teachers, four security people, a caretaker. I have Donnie helping in the lab, we have an on-site psychologist – Marjorie – you'll meet her later, she is great." A flash of jealousy runs through Jemma. _What if he found someone? Maybe that explains the calm, the guestroom_. Fitz doesn't seem to notice as he keeps rattling on enthusiastically. "And Vijay runs the logistics. All we are missing is an expert on inhuman biology." he adds quietly and looks at her pointedly. Then she notices the empty work station in the lab, set up suspiciously like her old space in the cramped little lab back on the Bus, but with newer equipment.

She freezes for a moment. "Oh." she says, now starting to understand his game. She feels a moment of panic as she thinks back to the lab she set up in HQ – looming with clinical coldness in the distance. She notices that doubt overclouds his eyes - clearly, he misinterprets her reaction. Well, maybe not. She doesn't know how she feels about this all. She forces herself to smile though "So show me around some more – and give me your best pitch" she hooks an arm around his waist. He flinches a bit at her touch but sighs in relief.

They walk around the campus and it is beautiful – safe and secure, with a little pond, trees and lots of free space to roam around. As they pass a giant playground, which resembles an open-air workshop, she recognizes some ideas that he doodled into his sketchbook during the unspeakably boring history of SHIELD classes during the Academy.

He shows her the dormitory; each room is clearly adapted to the special abilities of its little occupant. Every detail has been thought out carefully, as if he poured all his soul into it. "It's amazing, Fitz. You must have been working around the clock on this." Jemma says amazed.

He stops at one of the rooms and explains. "Julia's cocoon was the first thing I designed since AIDA. It gave me more satisfaction than anything I've ever done since, well, since a very long time." he explains. She examines the details of the bed, curling on itself like seashell – it closes automatically and keeps the little girl safe when she starts flying in her sleep, no sharp edges, all soft inside. She smiles when she notices the colourful butterflies etched into the top of the cocoon that glimmer in the dark – all in an attempt to ebb her ( _and maybe also his?_ ) nightmares.

They have lunch in the cafeteria, a bright room with colourful furniture and zooming little robots handing out food and cleaning tables. "These are the Ants. We designed and built them with Donnie. Instead of mimicking humans, we were thinking about mimicking insects. Basic functions, no risk of overthinking – they make a great workforce."

"Yes, of course. Eusocial insects are perfect for organization of menial tasks. Have you thought about adding chemical tracers to improve their communication…? " she exclaims excited.

He nods and smiles warmly "…For the moment they use sounds and touch for communication, but I thought you might have some ideas on how to improve them." They grab sandwiches and salads and settle at the table watching some kids running around the lawn, as they discuss the improvement of the Ants. Jemma feels more alive and excited than she has in a long time - she realizes that she hasn't had a stimulating conversation like this in a year. Even as doubts are still nagging her about his mysterious plans and in exactly what role she fits into them, she is profoundly happy that they are together, bouncing ideas back and forth, just like old times.


	9. Chapter 9

After lunch, Fitz nervously asks "Jemma, can I ask you a favour?"

"Sure…" she looks at him.

"Could I introduce you to Marjorie?"

"The shrink?" she asks, a bit confused.

"I'd like you to talk to her about some things." Fitz nods and leads her to an office in a quiet part of the building. He knocks, and enters. A short, stocky woman of about 60 years old is sitting at the desk immersed in some files and Jemma feels like a fool about her earlier jealousy.

"Hey, Marjorie." he greets her.

"Leo" she smiles a maternal smile at him. "And you must be Jemma, dear. I've heard so much about you." Jemma is unnerved under her direct stare. Fitz excuses himself quickly and Jemma stays alone with Marjorie.

"So how it going, Jemma?" the psychologist asks.

"I don't know what to say. This place is really something." Jemma says.

"Most of it is his ideas. He wanted it to be a positive experience for the kids. We have inhumans, gifted, we even have a little girl who has been enhanced by her parents, can you believe it? Lots of trauma, some you couldn't imagine. But they are all very resilient and somehow bounce back. They respond to Leo." Marjorie says.

"It was your idea to call him that." Jemma looks at her, almost accusingly.

"Yes, we discussed it was time to make peace with his past." Marjorie says. "Don't you think?" Jemma doesn't really know what to think. Leo seems like a stranger who belongs to this world – Fitz was always hers.

"He never let me call him that." She says finally.

"How are you feeling about this?" the psychologist looks at her and Jemma feels like she's being examined under a microscope.

Jemma swallows _. I'm not one of your patients_ , she wants to say, but bites back the words. It was clearly important to Fitz that she came here, so the least she can do is listen. "Like Alice down the rabbit-hole. How did he put this together, how did he find the staff, the kids?"

"I think that's his story to tell. We met during his therapy - this is why you are here. He asked me to talk to you about a few things. Things he felt you should know, but didn't know how to tell you."

"I'm listening." Jemma says uncomfortable, unsure where this is leading.

"Look, in the past year, he has worked very hard to put the trauma behind him, to heal, to make amends and I think he has come a long way."

Jemma looks at her "I can see that. Thank you for helping him."

Marjorie nods. "Indeed. But there will be still a difficult road ahead. He went through something quite extreme. He has been abducted, manipulated, his body and his mind were violated."

"I've never thought of it in those terms." Jemma mutters.

"That's normal. You suffered your own trauma, and on top of it, he played a part…"

"That wasn't him." Jemma interjects angrily.

"You are exactly like he described you; his fiercest champion." Marjorie smiles "Maybe your narratives here diverge, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that you need to understand, he is not only working through immense guilt, but also quite extreme sexual trauma."

"Sexual?" Jemma asks.

"For all purposes he was assaulted." Marjorie looks in her eyes.

"But… it wasn't real." Jemma protests.

"It was real for him. And I understand he told you about how AIDA implanted herself on his real experiences with you." Marjorie adds.

Jemma recalls his haltering explanations in the space station how AIDA shamelessly copied their experiences and tried to replicate them "Yes, he mentioned something."

"Well, it goes also for your sexual relationship. Leo mentioned that you had lots of joy experimenting before…" Jemma is mortified that he discussed something private like this with a stranger…Then immediately admonishes herself – of course he mentioned it, it's part of therapy. Still, she feels exposed in front of the older woman. "AIDA tapped into that and put him through some quite extreme experiences."

"What are you saying?" Jemma asks hoarsely. _That bitch. If I could kill her. Over and over._

"Well, just that even with the remarkable progress, there is no way to know how he'll react to intimacy with you. In sexual abuse cases, a therapist would usually recommend avoiding the trigger. But in this particular instance…" Marjorie says matter-of-factly.

"I am the trigger…" Jemma finishes sadly, suddenly seeing in new light his physical distance since the Framework. "What can I do?" Jemma looks at the psychologist, pleading.

"There is no recipe, but go slow. Let him show you what he's comfortable with, and respect his boundaries. You have to know that he'll do anything in his power to get better for you. He has been preparing every detail for your arrival. When he wasn't working here, he's been fixing up that cottage…I don't know when he slept at all…"

"The cottage?" Jemma asks, feeling like the pieces of the puzzle are slowly falling in place.

Marjorie nods smiling. "It was a really run-down place when he found it at first – but there was something about it that made it very important."

"I see. So, patience?"

"I know it's not the answer you are looking for. If there is one thing we know for sure about trauma patients -it is that most people eventually get better. But it takes time."

"I understand." Jemma nods.

"I also want you to know – and he didn't ask me to tell you this – but it is my professional opinion that whatever you decide about the future for the two of you, it will not break him. He's built himself up, he has found a purpose, and if you decide that the two of you should go separate ways, he'll understand and with time he'll be able to move on."

"Why are you telling this to me?" Jemma looks at the older woman suspiciously.

"Jemma, whatever history you are holding on – memories, good or bad, debts – real or imagined, guilt – let go of it and try to look at him as he is now. You cannot build a future on nostalgia. This is him being honest with you about who he is and what he wants." Marjorie says. "You owe it both to yourself and to him to be honest about your own feelings. Sometimes people love each other, but their life goals are not compatible. In these situations, usually the best thing is to let go." Jemma understands that Marjorie is trying to protect Fitz in her own way – still her words sting.

"Thank you, Marjorie. But you're wrong. You don't know us at all." She says a bit coldly and stands up, feeling a bit admonished.

"Well, I'm just doing my job, and Leo and I, we have become friends. He convinced me to come work with the kids, and it's probably the most rewarding thing I've ever done." Marjorie smiles warmly at her. "I'm sorry if I offended you. What I meant to say was that you already saved him, Jemma. Without your faith in him, he wouldn't have made it. Now it's your turn to figure out what _you_ want."

Fitz is waiting outside Marjorie's office when she emerges. Jemma notices that he is massaging his left hand, a sign of distress. "She seems nice." Jemma says as ahe sits down next to him. "So, she was your therapist?"

"Yes, Hunter – of all people - recommended her. He said she did wonders with some of his war buddies. PTSD, depression, this sort of thing. You know nobody wants to go to a shrink, I remember how you hated it after Maveth, but it was one of the best things I've ever done. She helped me break things down and put the pieces back together, to somehow make sense of it." he speaks staring at his shoes.

"I'm glad you did." Jemma says.

"Me too." he nods. Then he falls silent for a moment, still fidgeting a bit nervously. He takes a deep breath "Jemma,"

"Hmm?"

"..can I take you out to dinner tonight? Somewhere nice?" he looks at her, uncertain. She immediately understands that he needs her confirmation that she is willing to explore further, despite what Marjorie just told her.

"on a date?" she clarifies as she feels a strange sense of excitement. After so long they would be doing something nice, _perhaps even romantic_ together.

"Yes. On a date." he swallows hard.

"I think I'd like that." she smiles and takes his hand.

"Great." he lets out a sigh of relief. He doesn't pull his hand away as they start walking. "Let's head back to the lab, then. We have a new boy, Guli, he arrived only a week ago, and we are still working on his profile. I think you'll find him quite fascinating. We could use your eyes on it, because Donnie and I are not quite the experts on inhuman biology that you are."

"Hey, flattery doesn't work with me." Jemma protests.

"That is not my experience. It works at least half of the time." he responds teasingly.

He is not wrong. Jemma is truly fascinated by the shy, little boy who apparently can camouflage himself like a chameleon. "It is a very cool superpower." she reassures him with a warm smile as she takes some blood carefully. After she has all the samples she needs, they let Guli back to his class.

"Fascinating. His epidermis cells – imagine the possibilities…" she says turning to Fitz and Donnie.

"…almost endless." the guys say.

".. if only we could isolate…" she continues and soon all three of them are in deep discussion.

A boy, who looks about 12-year-old, interrupts them. He marches into the lab yelling "Leo, that was cheating. It was not an arithmetic equation but a hypergeometry one. I've been beating my head against it for two full days." He slams a tablet down on Fitz's desk.

"Hey, Mattie, I've never said it was arithmetic. And you somehow had time to rewire poor Jiminy Cricket during all your hard thinking." Fitz replies as he looks over the boy's tablet.

"Did you figure out what I did there?" Mattie looks at him, not even trying to deny it.

"I didn't" Donnie interjects which makes Mattie beam with pride.

"It took me a good while." Fitz smiles at the boy. "Yes, this is quite good. Look, Mattie, if you want to outsmart us, why don't you give me a hand with these safety gloves I'm working on, so Ben stops lighting random things on fire."

"Sure thing, Leo." The boy says excitedly then he notices Jemma "Oh, are you new?"

"I'm Jemma. Fi- Leo's friend." she introduces herself. "I'm just visiting for the moment." She adds to clarify and notices the strange look Fitz gives her. Uncertain, sad – and her heart breaks a little. But like Marjorie said, she needs to make her own choice and everything is so confusing – she hasn't had the time to process. She feels overwhelmed like she was at the bottom of the ocean when he was shoving the oxygen mask in her hand asking her to make an impossible choice.

"Are you also an engineer?" the boy eyes her curiously.

"Biochemist."

"Yuck... You'll like Tess then. She always messes up the lab with something, and she is a bit of a pain, but well, we are the only ones here without cool superpowers, so I hang out with her anyways." the boy clarifies.

"Mattie, from the sound of it, your brain is your cool superpower. That's all F- Leo and I ever had, and we did OK." Jemma replies with conviction.

Mattie shrugs. "Yeah, OK, I guess."

Fitz walks behind Jemma - ostensibly to give her a vial - and whispers in her ear "Mattie's definitely a piece of work. He's so much like I was at his age, I sometimes just want to smack him."

"Yeah, I can see that." she whispers back.

"Wait until you meet Tess." he grins.

"Can't wait." she grimaces and turns back to her analysis. She listens with amusement to Fitz and Mattie softly arguing over the design for the gloves.

They don't have to wait long, until a girl dressed in all black with an impressive amount of eyeliner for a 13-year-old and bright blue hair appears in the lab doorway.

"Cool hair, Tess." Donnie says.

"Whatever" she says with the ennui that only a teen can muster and blows a giant pink bubble gum. She eyes Jemma with some suspicion.

"Am I supposed to believe that this soccer mum is some chemistry hotshot?" she asks Mattie sarcastically.

Fitz's eyebrows shoot straight up to his hairline as he suppresses a laugh. Then he admonishes the girl: "Tess, some basic manners please? We are trying to demonstrate how great this place is. Jemma is my best friend in the world, she certainly does not look like a soccer mom, and she really is kind of a hotshot in chemistry and biology. Maybe if you drop the attitude and pay attention, you'll learn something." Tess rolls her eyes at him.

Jemma eyes the girl for a moment before she decides to accept the challenge. She steps forward and extends a hand towards her and singsongs in her most British proper lady tone "I'm Jemma, nice to meet you Tess. Do you want to help me to do the DNA analysis on this sample? We are still trying to isolate the macromolecules at play…"

"I guess. I've got nothing better to do." Tess shrugs and follows her. In two minutes all her cockiness disappears as she hangs on Jemma's every word. Jemma looks over to Fitz and gives him the thumbs up.

"Hotshot" he mouths back. She rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to Tess who tries to poke holes on her hypothesis.

"How did you like it?" Fitz asks as they are driving home.

"I'm impressed. Intrigued. The kids are fun, but a little exhausting. I wonder if we were such little pain in the necks at that age?" she wonders.

"Tess and Mattie? They keep us on our tows, for sure." Fitz grins affectionately. "No, you were never a little pain in the ass. You most definitely started out as a rather significant pain in the ass already."

She playfully smacks him.

"Hey, no harassing the driver." he protests. Jemma sits back in the passenger seat as she outlines some ideas on isolating the camouflage molecules and on using them in chemical compounds to improve adaptive materials. Her brain feels alive and soaring – as always, in his presence. _Isn't that the answer then?_ she wonders – still mulling over Marjorie's words.

They pull up to the cottage. "We're home." Fitz announces cheerfully and his words resonate, tears welling inside her. _Home._ Pi runs euphoric circles around them and indeed, it feels like she's home.


	10. Chapter 10

Jemma is sitting in her bathrobe on the bed, staring in the mirror trying to organize her thoughts, trying to decide what to wear and wondering why she feels so nervous. After all, she's going for dinner with her best friend of 14 years, her boyfriend ( _is that still true? They exist now in a grey zone that's more than friends, but still undefinable_ ) – what is the big deal? It shouldn't feel terrifying, but it does. She is not quite sure what she expects will happen, but surely, they will have to address the elephant in the room: _Will he come back? Will she stay?_ And if the answer is no to both questions – what does the future look like? Will they become long-distance friends to drift apart with time? They could still collaborate, after all the facility still belongs to SHIELD.

What would life look like without him? At least she knows the answer to that question. After all, she sat beside his hospital bed for nine terrifying days, spent months in undercover with Hydra, got swept off to a distant planet, with no hope of seeing him ever again. And they have been separated for a year again, so he could go lick his wounds like a hurt animal.

She knows she would be alright, rising through the ranks at work, like she always does. She would be competent, efficient, admired. But is that really what she wants? The last year – ever since Mace promoted her – she felt more like an administrator than a scientist. Was she ready to trade her microscope permanently for reports and order forms? Was the power, control and influence she had in exchange worth it?

She could set up an apartment alone, like she did when she was undercover- a nice place, tidy and organized but would it ever feel like home without his socks on the floor, without his toothbrush at the sink, without his heat warming up the bed? Or would she dread coming home to the emptiness, choosing to stay late at work instead?

She could certainly find a suitable man – someone she could learn to love, but wouldn't it feel like a compromise? Like it did with Will.

On the other hand, would she be happy here – in the middle of nowhere? Would she ever be happy anywhere else, without him? If only she could build a handy algorithm to predict happiness. But he was in a way an unknown quantity, too complicated for mathematical formulas. The moments of her life whether happy, sad, exhilarating, exasperating, awkward, funny, annoying, angry or tender are infused with his unquantifiable essence. She has no answers to any of these questions for now, beyond the fact that she has missed him, that she loves him and that she is both looking forward to and terrified of the prospect of their date.

Fitz is sitting nervously on the living room couch, dressed in a suit, blue shirt and tie waiting for Jemma to get ready. So far, the day seemed to go mostly as planned, and she at least didn't seem to hate it. In fact, she was impressed. And Jemma has never been too easy to impress. Still, his stomach is in knots, nervously thinking about all the things he'd still have to do to convince her to stay.

Having her in the house and in the lab has been the most natural and most unnerving thing at the same time. Their year-long separation and the preceding nightmare in the Framework and in space seem like a distant memory, as their relationship settles back to the easy rhythm of _before._ Still it doesn't feel like before, it feels in some ways new and different.

She appears suddenly at the top of the stairs wearing a dress he's never seen on her before; a knee length forest green piece that hugs her body in just the right way accentuating the whiteness of her skin. Her hair is half pinned up, some loose waves framing her face, soft brown eyes looking at him. Her lips are tantalizingly red. He swallows hard as he gets up to meet her "You look beautiful, Jemma."

She smiles. "And you tied a tie by yourself."

"Actually, Donnie tied it for me in the lab, earlier today." he chuckles. "I think that's still a lost cause. Shall we?" he holds out his hand for her and helps her down the stairs.

He opens the car door for her – even though she protests a bit, he knows she secretly likes old-fashioned gestures of chivalry. They drive to the restaurant he picked – a little gourmet bistro, nestled on a hillside overlooking a lake. Quiet, romantic place with soft candlelight and exquisite fish dishes. He orders a bottle of white wine as they choose their meals.

His heart is beating in his throat and he tries to calm his nerves taking a long sip of the wine. He doesn't really know where to start. She is waiting for him to speak first, uncharacteristically silent. He knows that he owes her an explanation for all this. He holds her hand in his and takes a deep breath:

"When I first left, I didn't really know what I was going to do, Coulson and I had been discussing how we don't have a Sandbox anymore and how some kids who are unable to get a grasp on their abilities went through terra-genesis and had nowhere to go, but I didn't want to rebuild the kind of prison it used to be. I only had a vague idea to somehow set up a safe place and a strong determination to fix things with you, with the team. The first few weeks I was sort of walking around in a haze – hating myself, being disgusted with everything. It was overwhelming and exhausting.

Then Pi found me, and he didn't care that I was broken. He just liked to sit with me and he followed me home, so suddenly I had a reason to get out of bed in the morning. Soon afterwards Coulson came with the first kid – it was Julia, and we started to build the place. She was so small and so scared. Haunted by nightmares that made her flap in her sleep, like a trapped bird and crash against the furniture. I spent three days straight designing and building the cocoon for her and for the first time in months, she slept through the night. And the smile she had on her face that morning when she woke up from a full night's rest – it felt like somehow it was the most important thing I've ever done." he's story is long but Jemma is listening intently. He wants her to understand that he had no plan to trick her.

"Then Donnie was found by a fishing vessel and Coulson managed to get him out before they used him as a lab rat again. It was his idea to bring him here instead of HQ – and I think it was good for both of us – bonding with someone who literally knows what it is like when your mind is invaded, when your free will is taken away. And this is how it went – piece by piece – it has all started to fall into place. When I started I wanted to prove myself, that I can still be worthy of – of you, Jemma, to be able to go back to you– to pick up where we left off – but along the way, I realized…" he is struggling to finish the sentence and looks at Jemma, pleading to understand.

"…you are not coming back." she finishes softly with a strange glow in her eyes, he cannot decipher.

He shakes his head. "No, I – I can't. And it's not a decision I made lightly. I've struggled long and hard, because it has always felt that my place was beside you, wherever that was. But then I realized, I only wanted to protect you – not that I ever managed to do a good job." he adds with a self-depreciating grimace.

Jemma's eyes are downcast now "I'm sorry, I never should have dragged…" he interrupts her immediately.

"…don't be Jemma. I am not sorry. Like I said, it was my choice. I wanted to be near you and working with you, loving you is when I feel most alive. For better or worse, without that, those experiences, I wouldn't be here now. And I thought that actually after the Framework, I had everything in place to be that competent field agent I've always thought I needed to be – I could fight better, shoot and kill without hesitation – so that you..."

"I've only ever wanted you to be you…" Jemma says sharply.

He nods, "Yeah, well, I was trying to figure out hard what was "me" at that point. And as we talked about it with Marjorie, somehow things started to resurface. Especially the first time I killed someone – you know, the day Hydra took over …"

"…it was to defend May…" Jemma adds immediately, defending him instinctively. Fitz wonders if he can make her somehow see her point.

He continues, "I know, but it haunted me for long. I kept wondering who he was, if he had a family waiting for him, kids…you know… all of that resurfaced, and this time I tracked him down. That's how I found Tess. She was so full of anger and pain – it was something I recognized from when I was her age and the destructive path it can lead to. And bringing her here, seeing her getting better day by day – it just felt right. That somehow, I was meant to do that. Not come up with silver bullets that will solve all the problems in the world with one elegant stroke, but just fixing things one broken piece, one hurt child at a time. Then I knew, I couldn't go back to the lab, I couldn't design another weapon and I don't want to have another drop of blood on my hand, no matter how righteous the cause." his voice cracks a little – the deaths continue to haunt him, even if he has learned to live with the ghosts.

So, this is it, that's the man I have become after this one year. And if this is something you may…want to explore further…, we can see if, you know… how it goes...and what options…" his voice trails off, and he loses his nerve. The monster in his head mocks him. Is this the best you can come up with? _Leave your beautiful big lab and brilliant career prospects in HQ and join me to be a school doctor? Come and live with me – I mean I have no idea if we can ever have sex again, but hey at least I have a house in the woods and little mutt? Even if you don't stay, would you come and visit sometimes?_

Jemma searches his eyes long and sees the fear of rejection mixed with hope. _This is the man you have been all along, Fitz,_ she wants to say. She has expected his answer from the time she has seen the Enchanted Forest; she understood instinctively that he wouldn't come back. But still, he has left things unsaid, again. He implied he wanted her here, he _showed_ her in the lab, and he explained through Marjorie his fears. But it was all too vague. He put her on the spot –a leave it or take it deal – but hasn't quite come out to say it.

A wave of annoyance hits her – this endless skirting around the issues is how they ended up wasting 10 years. It almost tore them apart a few times. Of course, she has been as guilty of it, as he has. She understands the reason for his hesitation and insecurity, but still, it is time. They have arrived at the end of the road. A rare moment of clarity hits her and finally she knows what she wants – _what she has wanted for quite a while now_ \- and she is pretty sure he wants the same thing, but she needs him to say it.

"Just ask me what you want, Fitz, already." she says seriously.

"What?" he looks at her searchingly then the panic sets in his eyes as he catches her meaning. "I have a whole timetable worked out for this. You know, with more dates, and a speech, with index cards…"

"…you never in your life used an index card, Fitz and I am moving up the timetable because apparently you have taken all the rest of the decisions by yourself…" Jemma interjects.

"…and you heard Marjorie, don't you want to be sure?" he protests quietly.

"…that's a small detail, Fitz, something we can work through…" she reassures him and she believes it.

"… OK, can we just agree that it is an at-least-average-if-not-bigger detail…?" he wiggles his eyebrows with a mischievous smile designed to get her off track. She knows this game of deflection, they've been playing it far too long. She summons all her willpower to remain serious.

"Leo…" she says quietly, and she hasn't called him that in a long time so it shocks him into silence and produces the desired effect, as his grin dissolves and for a moment there is a look on his face of a 10-year old boy, who is terrified that everyone he loves will eventually betray and abandon him. The moment passes and his expression changes, giving way to something else – determination, apprehension?

"…ask me already." she repeats seriously.

He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. "Fine, if the lady wants a spectacle, a spectacle she gets." he mutters and goes down on one knee. Jemma is suddenly aware that all the guests in the restaurant are staring at them.

His voice is soft but clear "Jemma Anne Simmons, you have been my best friend, my soulmate, the love of my life as long as I care to remember, and you are _everything_ to me – " he pauses, emphasizing the word and looks at her with so much love that she feels tears welling in her throat. Then he continues with the little mischievous smile that she loves so much,

"well, it may not be Perthshire, but at least it's a cottage, and I assure you it's a passive energy one just like you would want – which I hereby solemnly promise you get to re-decorate to your exact specifications…

and I'm sorry I didn't consult you before getting a dog, but at least – look at the bright side – I didn't get a monkey…

and we haven't really discussed children yet, and I know some people might find three dozen all at once a bit overwhelming, but then again, I've never known you to shirk away from a challenge …

and it may not be the Mount Everest of academia where you absolutely belong, but it has a lab with some cheeky apprentices, intriguing riddles, endless potential and a partner who is keenly aware of the benefits of tidiness and who would never dare to put a biological sample into a clear specimen bag...

… this is what I can offer, and it is all yours if you want it – will you please marry me?" he finishes and opens his palm revealing a ring that glitters in the candlelight.

Jemma is speechless for a moment, because it is all so romantic and quirky, so _Fitz_ that she doesn't know if she wants to laugh or cry and there is a moment of pause as he looks at her questioningly as he whispers "Do you want me to beg some more? It's not beneath me… I can do more begging, I just wish I had my index cards, I think I managed to come up with more reasons…"

And she just starts to laugh, and says "yes" then she realizes that clarification may be needed, so she adds "yes, I'll marry you" and whispers "God, I'd thought you'd never ask". She vaguely hears the guests in the restaurant clapping and " _aaaw_ "ing as they embrace and their lips meet in a tantalizingly slow and tender kiss. He slips the ring on her finger – she takes in the intricate design – the sparkling diamonds that encircle a dark stone set in a dark silver metal alloy she doesn't recognize at once, it looks like stars shimmering in the night sky…then it occurs to her.

"You didn't?" she looks at him accusingly.

"Yeah, sure I did. The cosmos taketh away, the cosmos giveth back, blessed is the cosmos." he grins then his expression becomes uncertain. "You hate it…" his voice trails off and he looks at her with sad puppy eyes.

She smiles at him. "No, it's… it's beautiful. Not everyone gets an engagement ring …with a space rock in the middle. You know how to make a girl feel special."

"It's to remind you that it's a dangerous business going out your door" he starts quoting Tolkein then continues with a slightly adapted version "and you never know where you might be swept off to _…. twice_ …" he raises two fingers for emphasis and she cannot stop laughing.

"You're such a nerd." she says with affection.

"Well, it's too late. All these good people have heard here how you have just betrothed yourself to me, so…" he says loudly and continues in a lower voice. "Wow, that was scary, I need more wine." and Jemma just looks at him, sees her own happiness reflected in his sparkling sapphire eyes, the only gem she has ever truly wanted.


	11. Chapter 11

When they get back to the house, Fitz grabs her to carry her over the threshold, while she playfully squeals and informs him that it's something they do after the wedding.

"It's just a practice run then." he jokes. And suddenly they are inside, in the bedroom. He is standing face to face with her and he knows that there is still one thing left to do, the final moment of truth. The giddiness of the evening dissipates and the dread fills his stomach again. _There is nothing left to do, but face the music,_ the monster challenges him. _The mask will fall and she'll leave when she sees what a mess you are._ He takes a deep breath and pushes the monster into the back of his mind.

He cups her face and kisses her softly, slowly, hesitantly inserting his tongue into her mouth, rediscovering, tasting. He is acutely aware how his hands are shaking as he unzips her dress and lets it fall to the floor. He starts kissing his way down to her breasts, gently releasing them as he unclasps her bra. He steps back for a moment, as he admires her beauty standing there almost naked. She steps closer and pushes his jacket down and loosens his tie. She starts unbuttoning his shirt and suddenly a memory flashes before his eyes _Leopold, I want you right now._ He grabs her hand to make her stop "Too fast." he whispers. She nods slightly to let him know she understood and backs to the bed, laying there motionlessly holding his gaze.

He kneels next to her his fully dressed body juxtaposed against her nakedness and starts kissing his way down, slowly. His fingers are delicately caressing her skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps. He traces feather-light lines connecting the freckles, committing to memory the constellations that will hopefully guide him home. He pulls down her knickers and buries his face in the hot wetness, taking in her familiar scent and taste, caressing, teasing with his fingers and his tongue until she comes, her stifled moans sounding almost like whimpers. _That was the easy part,_ he thinks.

He dims the lights until all he can see is contours and quickly undresses. He kneels above her and she puts her arms around his neck and meets him in a hesitant kiss. He slowly enters her and for a moment stops, enjoying the heat, the wetness, the feeling of being surrounded. He starts to move carefully and almost relaxes when he hears _Leopold, say you are mine, forever. Just mine. – I am yours, Ophelia. Forever._ He freezes in panic, almost loses his erection tears pooling in his eyes when he hears Jemma whisper. "Hey, Fitz, it's me. Look at me, love."

He opens his eyes, now accustomed to the dark and sees her eyes shining with desire. He is back in the present and starts moving again slowly.

"Jemma, keep talking to me." he swallows hard.

"What?" she asks.

"Doesn't matter, just keep talking." he whispers back.

And she does, instinctively tapping into exactly what he needs. She whispers about sweet nothing moments, the time he stumbled on top of her in the snow during a heated snowball fight, and how desperately she wanted to kiss him _and he can almost feel the snowflakes on his eyelashes and at the tip of his tongue_ ; or how flushed she would get sometimes when he leaned over her work station in the lab, his delicate fingers brushing against hers _and he can feel the memory of the heat and electricity radiating between them_ ; or the time they fell asleep on her bed watching movies on a laptop, and when she woke up they were all entangled _and he remembers his erection that morning pretending to be asleep, embarrassed and mad with desire and he becomes rock hard inside her_. She moans with pleasure as he fills her even more.

She keeps whispering about the innocent dreams of two lonely teenagers who find each other, and her voice is guiding him and anchoring him in this life, where he is engaged to the love of his life. A life made up of real moments with vivid colours, smells and flavours, not the digital monochrome nightmare of the Framework. Finally, he is fully in the moment burning with desire as he starts moving faster and faster until he reaches his climax. He closes his eyes and buries into her as deep as he can, breathing hard. She pulls him closer and they stay entangled as hot, cleansing tears quietly fall down his face dampening her hair. Her hands caress his hair softly as she just holds him still, quiet for a long time. His monster is silent.

Finally, Fitz wipes his eyes and sighs "I'm sorry, that was terrible. It was like losing my virginity all over again. I've never been this nervous. Thank you – for… for being amazing." he adds and kisses her.

"It wasn't too bad - for a virgin" she jokes and kisses him back. Her fond smile finally relaxes him. "We'll figure it out together – we have a lifetime to perfect it - again."

"That we do, my lovely fiancée." he nods as she nestles her head against his chest with a contented smile.

"So what kind of wedding did you think about?" Jemma's eyes shine up. _Here we go – Bridezilla has hatched,_ he thinks, but wisely keeps the thought to himself. Her obvious excitement fills him with warmth.

"Hey, I've had it planned out only as far as date 3, and you already mucked up my timetable. Anyways, I thought I'd let you worry about the wedding organization – we both know you have the superior organizational skills." he only half-jokes.

"Says the man who built Hogwarts from nothing in a year. Still, you must have a preference." Jemma looks at him questioningly. He thinks about it for a moment and all he sees is leisurely breakfasts together, sitting by the fireplace at night, building swing-sets for bright eyed kids whose voice fills the backyard with laughter. He shrugs.

"No, not really. If you want, we can drive down to Vegas tomorrow or we can elope to the Seychelles or we can do the full thing with our parents, and all our relatives we haven't seen in a decade…"

"You'll wear a kilt? My grandmother would melt from that…" she looks up at him.

"If I must…" he grimaces thinking that there is no humiliation he wouldn't suffer to keep a happy smile on her face. "Anything for you … or your grandmother."

"I'll remind you of this promise later, when your brain is not in a post-orgasmic mush and you will try to deny you have ever agreed." she giggles. "I could ask Daisy…"

"…and put her in a pink dress with horrible, puffy sleeves?" he sniggers.

"I thought you didn't care…"

"I don't. But still, torturing our friends –you'll have to aim that bouquet at Yo-yo and I want to see Mack's face – by the way, if I'm wearing a kilt, he's wearing one too - when she catches it - that does have some potential. Strictly only because they had that office pool running… Revenge, sweet revenge.." he kisses her.


End file.
